


if i may just take your breath away

by sultrygoblin



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Tropes, pirate!reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:53:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26095183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sultrygoblin/pseuds/sultrygoblin
Summary: one shot - all james wanted was to be loved. he doesn’t get to decide who it is.
Relationships: James Norrington/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 63





	if i may just take your breath away

**Author's Note:**

> i don’t even care that it’s a trope. i love this shit. some plot but unabashedly sappy in places. was gonna have smut but i lost steam. i would do a smutty sequel or james smut in general if people want it

“Come on,” you can’t help yourself, even behind bars you feel the urge, “You could have easily caught Jack. Why go after me?” he can’t help himself, he still stops, “Is it because you find me attractive?”

That gets him, “I say this,” turning slowly with that daggered stare that only a man with his military career could have, “And I cannot stress this enough,” taking a step forward and as always finding you rapt, “I find you completely repulsive.” 

You snickered, clicking your tongue at him, “Sticks and stones, Commodore,” raising your eyebrow at him, “Or should I call you James?”

He never forgot the shiver that ran down his spine as your tongue seemed to curl around each word. As if it were some delectable, exotic candy and not a name he shared with half the men on the island. No woman’s ever said his name like that. It’s a slippery slope, once he allows himself to fall down when he thinks he can’t sink any lower. Scrubbing the Pearl’s deck seemed the absolute bottom until he’d watched you come strolling on deck with a smirk that could only be for him.

“When I imagine you one your knees Commodore this isn’t quite how it goes,” you laughed, crouching in front of him and yanking the scrub brush from his hand, “I would rather not endure it. How about you?”

Only you could manage to wrap crude and kind into the same breath, rising to your feet and pulling him with you. One of the men goes to yell at him and you are far too happy to explain to him where he could put that brush if he wanted to use that tone. Which he can’t help laughing at. You seem genuinely pleased to have drawn such a reaction from him but it doesn’t stick around long. It doesn’t bode well for a woman like you to be too obvious with genuine affections. That’s what they were, weren’t they?

It’s the only reason he’s brave enough to ask you what he has to. It isn’t enough to just have the heart, he has to escape with it. And he doesn’t imagine a fine Captain as yourself would venture too far on another man’s boat without a plan just in case things went horribly awry. 

“I refuse to be jailed again,” you say from your spot on the barrel, spinning your dagger between your fingers, “Promise me,” the two words surprise him, “Look me in the eye and promise me that you will pay whatever cost to keep me out of a cell.”

He knows better than to lie to you, “I will do what I can. And if it is not enough then I promise you a warning,” your gaze traces him, appraising his entire body for any sign of a lie.

“Normally I would have you swear it with blood,” stabbing the blade harshly into the wood between your legs, “But in light of recent risks, I think a kiss would do quite nicely.”

“You would,” he laughs before really taking in the fact that you are not joking, “Why?”

“Because there is a very real chance that one, or both, of us, may die,” you mean it.

You won’t go to your grave without one, “And here I was thinking that you were starting to like me.”

He refuses to disappoint anymore. He presses forward, not a thought of propriety in his mind. Your fingers grip the lapels of his jacket as his lips met yours forceful. Not rough but firm, driving in that he means his promise and that what you said is very true. He kisses you like it’s the only chance he would have in the world because at that moment, it really might have been. He only has a moment to truly understand the definition of plunder and commit your taste to memory before Will is calling your name. You pull away with a pop and a grin, abandoning your weapon with him. A reminder of the trust you’re putting in him and what you could do if he broke it.

It is the second bargain he strikes with Governor Beckett. It comes with strings, a lot of them. At least they could be improvised into an escape plan if it truly came to that. He hopes it won’t. In only a few hours he has been promoted, cleaned, and dressed. For a moment, it’s as if he’s never really been away. It doesn’t last long. He slips the parchments in his jacket before making his way towards the only place a woman like you would be; a pub.

Sans hat, jacket, and a need to prove yourself to a bunch of men who should be running at the very sight of your sail, you almost seem like a lady. In trousers and drinking rum but your smile is real. You tell stories to the worker boys who listen rapt, enamored by what you have to say but no doubt more so by your beauty. Until he remembers that now he is Admiral Norrington. The place falls silent and all eyes turn to him, worry heavy in the air. Except for you. You swallow down the last of your drink and abandon the flagon on the counter with a wink and a click of your tongue. The bartender is a bloated drunkard but it still makes James’ nostrils flare with jealousy. That isn’t something you’re likely to miss, he doesn’t want you to. Just as with any other lady he offers his arm and is surprised that you take it. A hushed whisper begins its’ wave through the patrons. Your smirk is unmistakable as you walked into the warm evening air.

“And here I thought you’d send me on my way with little more than a curt nod,” tapping your pinky against the gold fabric of his brocade, nodding politely at the well-dressed women that openly gaped as they hurried down the street.

He smiles at you, turning down another path that would begin the trek to his only slightly out of the way home, “It turns out a woman like you is afforded many options.”

You clicked your tongue with a shake of your head, “I imagine that has much to do with you than that-” shaking your head, “There has yet to be a word invented to describe how horrid that little man is.”

He can’t help his deep chuckle, the road they turn onto next is little more than a widened dirt road that will take them to the military houses, “I would be hard-pressed to disagree with you,” up the hill and they would be in the home he would occupy until new housing arrangement could be made, “You have options but they are limited.”

You nodded slowly, “I hadn’t expected an option. Just an opportunity to run,” there’s a sparkle in your eye that can’t be missed when you glance up at him, “I am very eager to find out what they may be.”

“How do you do that?” beating him to the stairs and letting go of his arm to climb to the porch while he chose to stay on the ground 

“Do what?” you asked, he watches you turn, fists on your hips and smiling at him.

He thinks of those papers in his jacket, of every moment that has lead up to this one, and that if he didn’t do this he would truly regret it, “Make me fall in love with you each time I see you.”

It wasn’t like you to be at a loss for words, he can’t help smirking as your mouth opens and closes a few times. He takes the stairs quickly, surged with a confidence that no promotion had ever given him, it’s something he never wants to let go. Hopefully, he won’t have to. As much as he wants to kiss you and steal your breath away as well he will have to be content with your speechlessness for just a few moments longer.

“A week, he will give you a week to run and then he will have his men burn your ship to the shoreline,” he says, his tone more serious than he’s ever mustered with you, “Or you can marry me and renounce all your ties to piracy.”

“You would have me wait here for you, then?” you move to step back and he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close to him.

His eyes are black in the twilight, it stops your breathing, “I have only ever caged you once. I do not intend to make that mistake again,” you feel far more like a damsel than a pirate captain in his arms, “You’d keep your ship. Under the watchful eye of the East India Trading Company.”

“A merchant?” your tone is impressed and that surprises him, “You must have fought hard for something like that.”

“You’ll-” he cleared his throat, managing to calm his quivering breath, “You’ll do it then?”

“I will,” you answer after a long bout of silence, he exhaled a hard breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, “But I want a proper ring. And I won’t wear one of those torture devices.”

“It’s called a dress, darling,” you rolled your eyes, making it quite clear he had no idea what he was talking about, “That took suspiciously little convincing.”

“I had a lot of time to think about it,” he leaned down to capture your lips and you pressed him back with a tight fists on his lapels, “Just one more, very small thing,” the roll of his eyes and the impatient sigh seem so out of place on him that you can’t help but take pride in the way you riled him up, “Did I really repulse you?”

He’s surprised you still remember, it seemed like another day in the life of a woman pirate to him, “Never,” dropping his forehead against yours, “Now the things I imagined doing to you...”

“And you’re always shaming me for my lack of propriety,” you say, grinning that smile he could never get tired of, “Would you like to elaborate on these supposedly repulsive ideas?” unable to stop the girlish giggle that tumbles from your lips as he opened the door to the small living quarters and clumsily lead you in.


End file.
